In Theory
by Dana Woods
Summary: Post Chosen Fic (Spoilers for all of season 7) Normal life? What the heck is that, anyway?


Disclaimer: Characters/Concepts of Buffy belong to tons of people who aren't me.  
  
Spoilers: All of season 7, "Chosen" especially.  
  
Summary: Normal life? What the heck is that, anyway?  
  
Note: Written for the Lyric Wheel. Thanks to Leni for the lyrics to "Santa Monica" by Savage Garden.  
  
***  
  
"In Theory" By Dana Woods  
  
Buffy promised to show her the world once, and now she is. Well, okay, it isn't so much the world as it is California. Places in California not called Sunnydale or Los Angeles. Might as well be China for all that Dawn's traveled. And, really, they can't afford a cruise around the world anyway. They got a nice settlement from the insurance company for the house, but it's nothing to faint about. Just enough for them to hit a few choice spots, and get plenty of sister bonding time, before they figure out what to do next.  
  
They're at a Motel 6 in Santa Monica. They *always* stay at a Motel 6, actually, and they *always* get a little silly and thank the motel clerks for leaving the light on for them. None of the clerks have ever seemed amused by it, but they do it anyway.  
  
Buffy's got her Yummy Sushi pajamas on, and she's curled up on one of the double beds talking on the cell phone. Dawn's pajamas are Yummy Chocolate. Mom bought the PJs for them a few years back for Christmas, and Dawn's always thought that she got the better set.  
  
Dawn's on the other bed, typing on the laptop that Willow sent along with them. Buffy seems determined to keep all things supernatural or Slayery out of the picture, but Dawn finds herself more often than not chatting with whatever Slayers have bogarted the desktop and laptop from Willow in Cleveland.  
  
Some of them she knows from Sunnydale. Others are ones that Willow and the Coven have tracked down, and who have gone to Cleveland to learn about what exactly they've become. Dawn was surprised the first time a Slayer she didn't know starting chatting in the Instant Message window like they were best friends. Then she figured that everyone at the creepy old house in Cleveland knew that she always sent messages to Willow's screen name whenever she was online.  
  
When Paula, newly arrived from Chicago, babbled excitedly in shorthanded net speak about meeting a legend or something, Dawn hastily informed her-- in proper English, because she has apparently become so much the junior Watcher that 'u' instead of 'you' causes her a great deal of distress--that she was the Summers sister named Dawn, not Buffy.  
  
It took Dawn a few minutes to decipher Paula's response, and in that time she decided that Paul was young and a little confused. Young because she typed in 'i no ur Danw!!11!! omg, this is soooo kewl!!11!!' followed by a paragraph of mistyped words. Confused because once Dawn translated the paragraph, she realized that Paula thought that Dawn was just as much a legend as Buffy.  
  
Dawn cut and pasted the conversation for Vi to see, since she had wrangled use of the desktop that night, adding a snarky little comment about how the truth can get twisted around. She expected to share a laugh over it with the redheaded Slayer, but there was a long pause after Dawn hit send. And that confused her because--Vi? Somewhat manic since becoming a Slayer. Those twitchy little fingers of hers generally pounded out long responses a lot more quickly than Dawn was usually prepared for. After the pause came three words, 'You're kidding, right?'  
  
Frowning, Dawn had typed back that, no, she wasn't kidding. That Paula chick really was all confused about things. Someone needed to straighten her out. And then came the dings, so many and so often as Vi madly typed and hit send over and over again, her reply the equivalent of several pages. Dawn still has that response, saved in a folder named, 'Dawn-Keep Out Or Else'.  
  
In Sunnydale, before the First, Dawn didn't get it. To her, Buffy was her sister who just so happened to be a Slayer. Yeah, she knew the whole evil roaming the earth blah blah blah one girl in all the world blah blah blah spiel.  
  
After the First showed up, she became the main researcher since Giles was bouncing around collecting Potentials. She was less concerned with who was getting kicked off of 'American Idol' and more concerned with Sumerian conjugation. God, she even lectured the Potentials about taking things seriously. Her, Dawn Summers. Lecturing people.  
  
She finally understood a lot of things about Buffy, a Slayer who just happened to be her sister, that she'd never comprehended before. After that chat with Vi, she realized a lot of things about herself, too. She's been waiting for just the right time...  
  
Dawn looks up after sending Rona an update on her trip. It'll take a few minutes for Rona to type up all her gripes about whatever Nazi-like rules Giles, Xander and Willow instituted since the last time they chatted. Though, in Rona's defense, the bitching seems to be done out of habit now.  
  
Buffy is laughing on the phone, and Dawn knows she's talking to Xander. He's the only one who can avoid babbling about the Slayer business when she calls. Giles and Willow have apparently forgotten that there's anything else in the world to talk about, so Buffy makes sure to call when she knows they'll be busy.  
  
She and Buffy have been everywhere in California that they could possibly go, but there's still an entire world out there they haven't seen. The other day, Buffy asked her where she wanted to go next, and Dawn said she'd think about it. Seems like the timing is right.  
  
"Yeah, thanks, Xan," Buffy drawls, her nose scrunched up in distaste and her eyes twinkling. "On that note, I'm going. There's a beach towel with my name on it." She listens to something Xander says, snickers a little, then tells him, "Goodbye, guttermind."  
  
Dawn reads Rona's latest bitch session, gives her the expected, 'that sucks'. Then she shuts down the messaging program and makes a note to email Rona later and complain about how she was abruptly booted offline.  
  
"Hey, Buffy?" Dawn starts, her voice a little uncertain.  
  
"What's up, sister mine?" Buffy asks chipperly. She's not worried by the odd note in Dawn's voice. It's because they're normal now. The worst thing she's expecting is something silly, like Dawn admitting that she actually did spill soda on Buffy's new skirt two weeks ago. Which she did, but there's no need to admit it since Buffy already knows.  
  
In a way, Dawn feels bad that she's about to crush Buffy's little bubble. In a way.  
  
"Remember when you asked me where I wanted to go next?" Dawn asks a little more steadily. Buffy nods, the beginning of a frown appearing on her face. "Well, I think I've decided."  
  
There are a lot of things that can be said about Buffy, but no one will ever be able to say that she can't feel bad news coming from a mile away. Her face goes blank and her back stiffens.  
  
"No." The word is absolute, but Dawn doesn't believe in absolutes anymore.  
  
"Just--Just listen, all right?" Dawn pleads with her sister. "I know you want me to have this, like, normal life. And it sounds really good. Great, actually." She takes a breath and meets Buffy's stony eyes. "In theory."  
  
Buffy jumps to her feet and her angry steps eat up the distance between the two beds. She grabs the laptop and tosses it to the other bed. "I knew I shouldn't have let you talk to them," she says angrily.  
  
"Buffy, no," Dawn insists. She reaches up and takes her sister's hand, the gesture a lot less hesitant than it's ever been, and smiles. She knows it's a sad smile, a knowing smile, and Buffy flinches at the sight of it. "It's not them," she tells her softly. "It's me." She takes a breath and says what she's learned by watching her sister. "And it's you."  
  
"No," Buffy snaps again, pulling away. In another life, Dawn would have been hurt by that. "I'm not going to let it be you, and it's not me. Not anymore."  
  
"Okay, you're just lying now," Dawn huffs, rolling her eyes. "I'm not stupid or blind, you know."  
  
Buffy's pacing now, tossing glares at Dawn and running her hands through her hair. "You're talking about going back to a life that's almost killed you too many times to count, that's succeeded in killing me *twice*," she reminds Dawn, her eyes dark. "We're not doing it just because you feel jealous of the Potentials--who you are not going to be chatting with anymore by the way," she adds angrily.  
  
"Slayers," Dawn corrects her quietly, trying to keep a smile off her face.  
  
"Huh?" Buffy asks, coming to a stop.  
  
"They're Slayers, not Potentials." She has to look down, because Buffy's just blinked stupidly, and there's something in her eyes that makes it really hard for Dawn not to look smug right about now. "Remember? You're not the only one."  
  
"Exactly," Buffy says with satisfaction. "So you and I can go somewhere and not worry about things that go bump in the night anymore."  
  
"Actually," Dawn muses looking up again, "it's more like we can go somewhere and *pretend* that we don't worry about the things that go bump in the night anymore. Because, really, that's what we've been doing."  
  
Dawn feels like she's got her sister right where she wants her. Buffy wasn't expecting this and Dawn takes advantage of the opportunity, because if she doesn't then Buffy will have gathered herself and won't be willing to listen to a word she has to say.  
  
"I'll give you credit for avoidance," Dawn snickers. "You've been really good about not reading any section of the paper except the funnies, and turning off the television before the news comes on. Oh, and extra props for not staring out at the night all those times you can't sleep."  
  
"Hey, I sleep just fine," Buffy protests a little weakly. "I'm just...adjusting to being all daylighty again."  
  
Mentally, Dawn gives Buffy more props for self-deception. "Right, sure," she says quickly, her voice reeking of placation. "You're not trying really hard to convince yourself that you're just fine with not being a Slayer."  
  
"I'm still a Slayer, Dawn," Buffy says with a great deal of confusion.  
  
"And you've just made my point," Dawn says bluntly. "Being a Slayer isn't about the power, Buffy, it's about what you do with it. You're the one who taught me that. So, if you're all gung-ho about this normal life thing, why are you standing there telling me you're still a Slayer?"  
  
"I never wanted something more than this," Buffy whispers, her voice conflicted, and Dawn scrambles off the bed and to her sister, hugging the woman tightly to her. Her sister's hands remain at her side for a moment, then creep around Dawn's back. "Ever since...I've just wanted this."  
  
"Well, I wanted a horse for the longest time," Dawn reminds her. "But I don't think I'd really like cleaning up horse poop, you know?"  
  
"This isn't about horse poop, Dawn," Buffy says impatiently, pulling away and staring at her.  
  
"I know that," Dawn says in the same tone. "It's a metaphor, all right? And, what the heck is a normal life anyway?" she demands to know. "Because from what I've seen so far, it's pretty dull and you're not really getting into it."  
  
"I'm not bringing you back into that," Buffy insists.  
  
"*You're* not," Dawn argues. "I want to go back and if I can't wear you down, I'll just wait until I'm eighteen and go then."  
  
Buffy narrows her eyes. "Who are you and what have you done with the sister that used to resent my sacred duty?" she demands to know.  
  
"That sister disappeared around the time I was keeping Xander's car on the road after shoving a tazer against his neck," she laughs. That really is one of her prouder moments. Then she grins. "Oh, and according to the rumors that are starting to spring up among those in the know?" she adds cheekily. "I'm the Watcher-in-Training that half the Slayers from Sunnydale want to be assigned to." She can't help but bounce a little. "I so rock."  
  
There's an amused and exasperated snort from Buffy. "Wow, a little adulation and you're all about a life of death and pain," she drawls sarcastically. "If only I'd known this years ago; we could have gotten past those resentment issues of yours."  
  
"Shoulda, coulda, woulda," Dawn sniffs haughtily, causing Buffy to roll her eyes, then she gets serious again. "That's not why." Buffy levels an incredibly disbelieving look at her, and Dawn grins a little. "Not all of it, at least," she amends. "I *helped*, Buffy. Me. I want to help again."  
  
"Willow said something like that our senior year in high school," Buffy breathes, and Dawn really wishes she'd known that so she could have chosen different words.  
  
"So I know what mistakes not to make," she replies after a long silence. "If there's anyone out there who knows what not to do, it's me. Sure, I'll probably make other, different bad choices," she admits and Buffy's eyes widen. "But, hey, they'll get nipped in the bud pretty quick, what with you, Giles, Xander and Willow watching me like hawks all the time." She wiggles her brows at Buffy. "And the Slayers are way jealous of that too. I'm, like, in with the ruling class."  
  
"In with the ruling class," Buffy echoes dubiously. "Comments like that? Not working in your favor here, Dawn."  
  
But they are, and she knows it. "Just give in already," Dawn explodes with exasperation. "You know you want to. Geez, Buff, the only thing more obvious would be a big neon sign flashing over your head: Bzzt. 'I Need A Purpose--Eat At Joe's'. Bzzt."  
  
She opens and closes her hands, miming a flashing light, until Buffy grabs them and holds on tight. "You really want to be in the middle of all that again?" she asks intensely.  
  
"Um, *no*," Dawn replies emphatically. "But it's not going to be like that. Hello--dozens of other girls to share the burden? Twelve in Cleveland right now? Another bunch in New York with Faith?" She frowns in mock confusion. "Is any of this ringing a bell?"  
  
"It was my idea, so yes, ringing a bell," Buffy says drolly.  
  
"My point is that it's not just a few of us anymore. We've got serious back up. And with all the Slayers in Cleveland, you'll have plenty of time for this normal thing you seem to crave. Whatever that is," she adds under her breath. "You'll get to be a part of it, but not the whole of it. Seems pretty much like the best of both worlds to me."  
  
Buffy raises a brow. "And you'll get to lord it over a bunch of Slayers," she finishes knowingly. "You've been giving this a lot of thought."  
  
Dawn lifts her chin. "I plan to be a lot more pleasant about it than Kennedy was with her maggot talk," she says archly. "I've already got Rona's undying respect for kicking you out of the house." She rubs her hands together in anticipation. "The rest will follow. I just need to put you in your place in front of the new ones."  
  
"That's it, we're not going," Buffy announces, but Dawn sees the amusement in her eyes. "We're heading to some hick town and getting a house so that I can throw you out of it. See how you like it."  
  
"Go ahead," Dawn challenges her. "I'll just call up my Slayer friends to come get me, and maybe I'll have them kick your butt while they're at it."  
  
Buffy gets this really evil look on her face, and Dawn can't wait to hear what she says. "And maybe I'll call up Andrew and tell him you have a crush on him and want to learn everything there is to know about Star Trek," Buffy shoots back. Dawn's face falls into horrified lines. "From the original all the way up to 'Enterprise'. Including the movies."  
  
"Buffy!" she screams. "That's just low. I mean--Andrew! Star Trek!" She narrows her eyes and leans forward. "Those are fighting words in my neighborhood, Slayer."  
  
Buffy narrows her eyes right back. "Really? Well, bring it on."  
  
They stand there, eyeing each other up for a moment, then both dive for a bed and grab a pillow. It only takes ten minutes for Dawn to cry uncle, but the laughing doesn't stop for an hour, and a week later they're knocking at the door of a creepy old house in Cleveland whose porch light is on.  
  
***  
  
Savage Garden  
  
Lyrics:SANTA MONICA  
  
In Santa Monica, in the wintertime, the lazy streets  
  
so undemanding  
  
I walk into the crowd  
  
In Santa Monica, you get your coffee from the coolest  
  
places on the promenade  
  
Where people dress just so  
  
Beauty so unavoidable, everywhere you turn it's there.  
  
I sit and wonder what am I doing here?  
  
But on the telephone line I am anyone, I am anything I  
  
want to be.  
  
I could be a super model or Norman Mailer  
  
And you wouldn't know the difference  
  
Or would you?  
  
In Santa Monica, all the people got modern names like  
  
Jake or Mandy  
  
And modern bodies too  
  
In Santa Monica, on the boulevard, you'll have to  
  
dodge those in-line skaters  
  
Or they'll knock you down  
  
I never felt so lonely  
  
Never felt so out of place  
  
I never wanted something more than this  
  
But on the telephone line I am anyone,  
  
I am anything I want to be  
  
I could be a super model or Norman Mailer  
  
And you wouldn't know the difference  
  
On the telephone line I am any height,  
  
I am any age I want to be  
  
I could be a caped crusader, or space invader  
  
And you wouldn't know the difference  
  
Or would you? 


End file.
